Lake Hylia at Dusk Scene: The lake water is still. Orange highlights and purple shadows cover the scene like a delicate and ornate linen tapestry. A soft, sorrowful song plays. At the edge of the island, not puncuating the atmosphere but adding to it is an emerging wave and a gasp. A figure treads water breifly before staggering ashore, dripping and falling to its knees on the shore. Silence, aside from light struggling for air. From the tree on the island, down jumps another figure, slowly approaching. Sheikh. A tense silence before the resting figure, in the blink of an eye stands up, sword at Sheikh's throat. Sheikh looks first at the glint of the fading sunlight, seeing upon the hilt the triforce - it is the Master Sword. Yet turning their eyes to meet the figure, they see a gray face with glowing red pupils. Caught entirely off guard, Sheikh steps backward slowly, every step followed by the figure, sword following after Sheikh's throat. Breaking the tense scene, the neigh of a horse howls from the distance, drawing the eye of both Sheikh and the figure itself for a moment. In the dark dusk, the orange sunlight only touching the tallest reaches of the nearby trees and buildings, the two can barely make out a figure on horseback approaching from Hyrule feild. In this instant, Sheikh finds the opportunity to throw a Deku Nut at the distracted figure, reappearing overlooking a fence from the Lake's shoreline while the figure breifly looks around and collapses again. Sheikh sees exactly who it is as this new figure walks across the bridges to the island: Ganondorf. What is going on, Sheikh does not know, unable to process any of it, they simply watch the King of Theives walk rather casually across the bridges toward the island. Sheikh's mind begins to race - the figure they had confronted had no fairy to be seen. And the red eyes. And it could have just been a trick of the low light but, the gray skin... Before any thoughts can cohere, Ganondorf has approached the red-eyed figure on the island. It kneels and bows, extending the Master Sword to Ganondorf, who tears it away with seeming anger. Slowly standing, and shockingly, placing a gentle hand on Ganondorf's hip, the figure appears to speak to him. Yet in a quick motion, Ganondorf grabs it by the throat, outstretched arm dragging it to the side. Ganondorf and the figure are wordless for a moment and then Ganondorf plunges the Master Sword into its guts. No blood, no struggle, the figure rather looks down as if confused, then back at Ganondorf's steel glare. The dark figure seems to slowly fade, like a ghost. Fading until nothing but a small whisp of pitch black blows away in the slight breeze. Ganondorf, like a frustrated father picking up after an unruly child, rummages through a bag the figure had dropped, throwing several items into the lake, keeping a few. He picks up and slings around his shoulders the now sheathed sword and begins to walk across the bridge again to his horse, waiting at the shore. Sheikh moves quickly down the fence, maintaining cover but getting a glimpse of Ganondorf mounting the horse and turning to head toward Hyrule Feild. His horse picks up slowly marching, but as he approaches the clearing which is the entrance to the lake, looks back, directly at Sheikh, making eye contact from that distance. No gestures, no words, just a knowing and hateful stare, held for some seconds, before he turns and whips his horse to swiftly begin running toward what presumably would be his destination, back to his Keep in the ruins of Castle Town. Still reeling, mind almost numb, Sheikh hears another light splash in the water behind and their name whispered in a scolding tone. Ruto has surfaced. Sheikh, in a daze almost, walks over, kneeling and sitting on their feet at the edge of the water to meet Ruto. "What the hell just happened!" Silence. "Sheikh!" - finally, Sheikh responds: "I don't think that was Link. It was some kind of... ghost." "What are you talking about!?" Ruto replies, still in a frustrated whisper. "A ghost? If it was a ghost, then that means he must be..." There is silence, but for Guay in the distance squacking and a single frog. Sheikh stares at the ground, as Ruto begins to tear up. Angrily, Ruto speaks now: "What have you done, you Sheikah! What have you done! My... My... Husband!" almost shaking, Ruto growing more furious. "You sent him in there! You did this! You killed him, Hylian scum!" Ruto now yelling, Sheikh still staring expressionless. "He can't be dead! He can't be! If he is... If he is, a curse on you! A curse on you, and the whole Royal Family! If Link is dead... If he is dead", now, Ruto crying, her voice cracking - "If he is dead then good riddance to your Royal Family! Good riddance to the King! Good riddance to the Triforce! Good riddance to all of it! If he is dead, I hope you go follow him then!" Ruto screams now, "Let Ganondorf send you with! Let Ganondorf kill you, you scum!" she dives now, disappearing, leaving Sheikh alone, in the quiet, as the rays of sun no longer fleck the treetops, as night begins its quick descent upon them. Sheikh simply stares for a while more. Guay call listlessly in the distance. A lone frog chirps on, mindlessly. Outside Impa’s Home, Morning. Impa sits at the foot of the steps leading down from her home. She looks off to the center of Kakariko. Jugglers practice in the clearing. Cuckoos cluck away. For a while, Impa stares up at Death Mountain blankly. She hears footsteps approaching on the dry grass, stands up and straightens. "We can sit." Sheik says, walking in front of Impa to sit cross-legged on the ground. Impa sits back down on the stair. She crosses her arms on her knees and hunched forward slightly, looking down at the ground - not dejected, more like the ghost of a commander examining war plans. Impa knows that something has gone wrong if Sheikh has decided to meet in the open of Kakariko. "Rauru is gone. Saria's song no longer works, and the Goron have not heard from Darunia." Sheik speaks slowly and methodically. "I also…” Sheik pauses. “Ruto will not be speaking to us, either." The two sit for a long while, Impa still and stiff, Sheik strangely loose, watching bugs scuttle past, the treetops waving in the wind. Finally, Sheik speaks, and his voice cracks "I do… wish I could apologize to her." With this, Impa suddenly understands what Sheik does not want to say. Link is dead. The sun beats down on them, everything seems too bright for a moment like this. Eventually, Sheikh stands and turns, looking up at Death Mountain. “Of the five, there are still two... And…” Sheik looks down. "I know. So," Impa says. “it must be Nabooru.” Sheikh breathes deeply. They finally lock eyes, Sheik’s cold as steel. His voice regains composure. "I will deal with Bongo Bongo. Bring her here." Impa stands up, almost rudely turning away. "We have only a few days at most. I will be back within a day." she says, looking back at her home. After some time, Impa turns back around. Sheikh is gone. ***Impa, being sent by Sheikh to find Nabooru, as part of their last ditch attempt to kill Ganondorf, fights an Iron Knuckle which is revealed to be Nabooru, having been imprisoned in the armor for an uncertain amount of time, maybe days, maybe weeks, maybe months. After the final blow of the fight, Nabooru is revealed*** Nabooru, fallen, hangs her head, trying to gather her senses - unaware of the fight that just took place, her body still aching from the imprisonment. The armor that had trapped her slowly turns black, bluish flames burning the black into a purple smoke that quickly disappears. Impa stares in shock. She had expected the armored beast to be guarding Nabooru, but not like this. How long, Impa wondered, had Nabooru been trapped in this armor? Nabooru finally looks up and yells with desperation "Who... Who are you? What are you doing here?!" Nabooru coughs and gags, shaking. Impa realizes that Nabooru is completely unaware of so much... Unaware she is a sage, unaware that she was betrayed, unaware that there was a Hero sent to find her, unaware that... "I said who are you!" Nabooru barks, attempting to stand up yet collapsing to her knees once again, wincing. "We have to get out of here, Nabooru." Impa says, approaching her. The walls shake and dust falls from the ceiling, as if mirroring Nabooru’s confused anger. "Get away from me!" Nabooru yells, pushing the empty air as if shadow boxing. Impa recoils and chokes back a strange sensation. A tingling behind her eyes and a pit in the back of her throat – not fear, something else. "I don't want to hurt you, Nabooru. It is not safe to be here, we have to go -" "There is nowhere safer for me to be!" Nabooru yells out for reinforcements that won't come: "Guards! Someone get rid of this Sheikah!" Impa can't think straight. Damn it, why didn't she think this through? Of course Nabooru will not listen. Impa realizes she is nearly crying, unsure of why. Great, she thinks, Nabooru will never listen to a nervous wreck, let alone a Sheikah that she still thinks is her enemy… But this is the last hope. Without Nabooru, Sheik and Impa will have to try to kill him on their own... "Guards!" Nabooru yells as Impa. At a loss, she begins to back away. Maybe it is all a lost cause, Nabooru will never listen.. But at least she is alive… Impa backs away, seemingly just as much, if not more afraid of Nabooru’s visible pain than of her anger. "Where do you think you are going!" suddenly, with a burst of energy Nabooru stands up, runs and tackles Impa, Gerudo dagger at her throat. Impa lets out an uncharacteristic shreik, and as soon as the cold metal blade rests against her chin, hot tears pour from her eyes. "What did you do to me, sheikah?!" Impa begins sobbing, attempting to hold still but going limp. “You need to be quiet, Nabooru", Impa lets out, "Koume and Kotake are coming, we need to go..." Impa slides down the wall, her neck scraped by Nabooru's blade ever slightly as the gerudo lets down her guard. "Wha- what do you know about them?" Nabooru stutters, "what’s going on?" Impa, unable to speak, makes a meaningless gesture, as if trying to communicate everything all at once. Nabooru is transfixed now, as if a hurricane of memories just emerged on the horizon of her mind. Koume and Kotake, the witches that raised Ganondorf, the man who would replace her. The man who DID replace her... Koume and Kotake, those witches who came out of nowhere and were quickly hailed by all the Gerudo as leaders... What made them leaders? Nabooru had dedicated every moment of her life to the Gerudo, was respected by everyone, was looked up to... Still, none of it adds up – and none of it explains this Sheikah being here. Dizzy and hit again suddenly with pangs of some lingering effect of her imprisonment in the armor, she steps back. "Sheikah... were you here to kill me?" she asks. Impa wordlessly shakes her head. "No..." Nabooru trails off, herself now falling back to her knees in front of Impa. So much is running through Nabooru’s mind. The two women sit across from one another, as if children tired out from play fighting. They sit in silence for some moments. The eerie silence becomes earsplitting, the only sound in the chamber each others’ strained breaths – and their own racing heartbeats. Nabooru breaks the silence first, her breathing a bit more normal, but she still is nearly immobilized with the aching in her arms. "Tell me, sheikah. What business of it is yours, Koume and Kotake? Why did you come here?" "You won't believe me." Impa makes eye contact breifly before looking away. "What!" Nabooru exhales indignantly, and laughs, Impa is jarred but thinks, the situation is rather bizarre - "After all this, you won't even tell me what brings you here!? Coward!” Nabooru lethargically and jokingly points her sword at Impa. "There are no guards coming for you, are there, sheikah?" "There are not." Impa says flatly, “I haven’t seen a single other Gerudo for miles.” "So, tell me why you are here then. How did you find me? I don't care if you lie. If you do, I will find out the truth eventually. I have my ways." Impa stammers, frustrated, sitting upright "There is too much... I don't understand it all myself. We seriously need to get out of here. If Koume and Kotake do not kill you, Ganondorf will. I can explain more, but... please, Nabooru." Nabooru has turned oddly calm and speaks softer now, her voice barely now echoing through the chamber. "You come from Kakariko, don't you, sheikah?" Impa nods. Impa returns Nabooru's gaze. For a moment, the two simply stare at eachother through the humid air - not necessarily sizing each other up, simply observing. "Sheikah -" Nabooru says gently but commanding – "Impa. My name is Impa." Nabooru seems mostly back to her usual self - determined and focused. "All right,” she stands, sheathing her knife, most of the ache in her body has turned dull, she stretches. “You go back to Kakariko. In a day's time I will come. I will bring whatever Gerudo still believe in me. Expect two dozen." Impa stands up, surprised, but this can work. Nabooru begins to head toward the door on the opposite end of the room. As she approaches it she says, turning back, now speaking formally as if a bit embarassed at her lack of composure earlier - "Know this though. We will not tolerate if any Sheikah or Hylian gives us as much as an odd glance." Impa, having composed herself, a bit less successfully, responds, "I know you have no reason to trust me, but-" Impa is interupted by Nabooru turning back with an intense stare. "I don't trust you, sheikah, and nothing you say will make me. But it doesn’t matter. Right now, it seems trust is a luxury we can't afford." With this, Nabooru turns away and out the door. Impa nods a few moments late. A slight breeze passes through from somewhere, and Impa notices her own gaze drift from Nabooru's eyes to her the hair on the nape of her neck, the curve of her lips, the sweat on her nose. Mid day outside Kakariko Village, Impa sits at the gate of the trail to the village. She’s seen the Gerudo caravan approaching from past Lon Lon. She doesn’t look at it. She wipes dirt from her clothes and listens to the water flowing just ahead, trying to take her mind off of last night. Her back aches dull from sleeping on the bare floor of a tattered tent outside the gate of the village. Her stomach empty, she drinks water from a flask as if it were a meal. Eventually, Nabooru heads the caravan across the stone bridge over the river and approaches. Six large horse drawn covered wagons, a few with Gerudo looking out, and three other gerudo on horseback stop at the gate. Nabooru briefly looks at her comrades and dismounts, approaching Impa. "You are hurt?" Nabooru asks in a tone that sounds like an interrogator but her face betrays worry, although Impa does not look. "They will not let you in, but we can set up a camp outside." Impa flatly states. "What, your people do not listen to you?" Nabooru asks. "They are not my people. They are just people." Impa says, staring at the flowing river. Nabooru tries to wait for Impa to look at her, but she doesn’t. Nabooru glances back at her followers. One of them asks, “So we are to camp out here like sitting ducks?" All look to Impa, who doesn’t respond. Nabooru replies, half defending herself but also sheilding Impa "If Ganondorf wanted us dead, we would be corpses in the open feild. I know it is a strange situation, but we can manage.” She comes closer and leans to Impa, speaking more softly. “No one in the village will speak to us?" "They will not.” Impa says. “Nor to me." "This doesn’t make me look great, you know.” Nabooru scolds but, seeing the look in Impa’s eyes and noticing that Impa seems wounded, asks out of an unexpected genuine care: ”Did they hurt you? Why?" "They did not. I was hurt defending them. They are fearful." “Fearful? Don’t you think my people are as well? ” Nabooru says, frustrated again. “We’ve had to flee the homes we’ve had for generations, the Gerudo are now split, and those still in the desert have Ganondorf on their side. We are on the back foot, so why fear us?” “It isn’t you that they fear.” Impa says. Everyone stands silent for a while. "So, the people of Kakariko will not mind us setting up down the river?" Nabooru asks, loud enough for her people to hear. Impa assures them with a simple "No." Nabooru turns to her people who still seem a bit skeptical but tired. "As I said, if we were targets, we would have been attacked already. We will be fine camping a ways down. Lets set up near the bend." Nabooru points. Trusting their leader, the caravan heads south along the river. Nabooru remains as Impa stays seated. After waiting for a while and Impa not moving, Nabooru sits next to her, although not too close. At first, Nabooru had sat to question Impa further, but she can sense now isn’t the time. They sit for a long time in silence. Eventually, Impa looks to Nabooru. They look at eachother for a moment. Impa’s eyes dart back to the river – not nervously, but as though the look were just a formality. Yet she says, warmly, in contrast to her cold demeanor. “I am glad you are okay.” Nabooru gives her a look — not confused, exactly, but as though looking for some kind of tell. Why does this Sheikah care? She stands up and stretches, “I’ve been better.” she laughs.“I am just glad we met no trouble on our way.” “I am sorry about-” Impa begins, but Nabooru waves her hand “Its probably better off we don’t camp in Kakariko. The women don’t care much for Hylians and, although things seem very different, I am sure the feeling is mutual.” “That is true.” Impa says, seeming a bit less dire. “This ugly rag is your home now?” Nabooru gestures to the tent Impa spent the night in. Impa shrugs. “An old friend will be bringing a few of my things from the village later this evening.” Nabooru can see the tent is completely empty. “What, you plan to live out here in a lean-to, no cot or blanket, like some hermit?” Nabooru asks, in a lightly teasing tone. Impa seems hurt by it. The reality seems to set in for Nabooru – Impa really is completely exiled. Is it because she invited the Gerudo? Has the village decided it is better to work with Ganondorf? Does she have anyone left? She almost seems to act as if she is the last living Sheikah on earth. Nabooru decides to save her questions. “Well, sheikah. Your friend can help you bring your things to our camp. We have a decent tent and bed for you.” Impa seems to wince slightly, but says “I do appreciate it. I have to wait for her here.” Nabooru asks, “How much is she bringing, do you need a cart?” Impa shakes her head. “Just a few small things.” Nabooru doesn’t say anything at first. This woman saved her life — and now she’s sitting outside a home that won’t even look at her. “Do you have time to come have a meal? Or, I can bring one to you.” Impa finally looks up at her, truly looking lost. “If you could bring it, I’d be grateful. I don’t want to miss her.” “All right then.” Nabooru steps toward Impa and puts a hand on her shoulder. “You ought to tear down that eyesore though, my people won’t stand for it.” she says smiling a bit, gesturing to Impa’s tent. Impa actually does smile back and shares a bit of the levity. “I found it in the brush further back. It is slightly less regal than my usual quarters.” Nabooru turns, “I’ll be back in just a bit with some food. Don’t get eaten by Guay while I’m gone,” she says over her shoulder. Impa exhales, watching her disappear toward the bend. Just water and wind again. At Lon Lon Ranch, in the home of Ingo. "He's coming!" Ingo yells up the stairs to Malon with glee. Malon walks down like an annoyed mother. Ingo stands stupidly facing the door, and as Malon approaches him, the knock comes - three very slow knocks. Ingo opens the door excitedly but also appears to collect himself a bit. "Sir! How wonderful it is to see you! How can I help you today?" Ganondorf and the Poe Collector stand at the door, Ingo shoots a suspicious and disgusted glance at the Poe Collector. Ganondorf says nothing, simply walking in and sitting down at the table in the middle of the house, gesturing for Malon and Ingo to join him. The Poe Collector stays at the door, closing it and standing in front of it. A strange flash of purple smoke is exuded from his form oddly, as if he were a machine letting off steam. Ingo and Malon join Ganondorf at the table. "What an honor it is to have you visit, sir!" Ingo says in a bizarre high pitched voice. "Would you like a glass of our finest milk?" he asks, almost yelling the question. Malon sits lazily with hear chin resting on her hand. Ingo turns to her "Malon, you should sit up straight for our company!" The command is ignored, Malon yawns. Ingo stands up and walks over to get some bottles of milk, desperately. He nearly drops one bringing them over to the table. "Sir, I insist!" He places one in front of Ganondorf, Malon and the spot where he sits back down, looking expectantly at Ganondorf, who sits still as stone. "Perhaps one for your.... friend... as well?" Ingo asks, looking over to the Poe Collector for as breif a glance as he can, as if the mere sight of him makes Ingo nauseous. There is silence. Ganondorf looks over to the Poe Collector, his deep yet somehow soft voice belows out "I can not deal with this man." Ingo's pale complexion somehow turns paler. He looks to Malon, who is paying no attention. A barely human voice, that sounds like that of an insect attempting to speak, echos from the Poe Collector: "He is quite unserious." A gust of wind that effects nothing else in the room blows the cloths draping over him. "Very entertaining, however. Perhaps he would make a good Jester." The Poe Collector's voice drips with hate. After an odd pause, Ganondorf exhales a single, hollow laugh. "I don't think I have much use for a Jester. If I had one, I would probably kill him." Ingo stands up abruptly as if trying to escape the situation and promptly faints. Malon, head still resting on her hand, sighs and gets up, carrying him and propping him up on a crate. She returns to the table, again sitting back in the same casual pose. "He is useless." she says. Ganondorf and the Poe Collector look at eachother. Ganondorf turns to Malon. "I guess we will deal with you then." he stammers a bit. "I am not sure how much of our discussions you are aware of..." "I've read all the letters. It is a fine plan. A fine city could be built, but I'd do a few things differently." Malon says nonchalantly. Ganondorf is taken off guard a bit by Malon's confidence, especially contrasted to Ingo. "Well, we are here to discuss the short term. Kakariko will fall within a few days, are you prepared?" Malon, still never having made eye contact with Ganondorf, "There is not much preparation to do. They will come, we will begin construction, that is all, isn't it?" she finally meets Ganondorf's gaze. Again, Ganondorf looks to the Poe Collector, who lets out a cackle. "Who said this girl was plain! How smart! How excellent! How wise!" Malon and Ganondorf are unphased by the remarks, which seem redundant. Ganondorf stands up and walks to the door, another plume of purple smoke bellows from the Poe Collector. Malon simply stares off. "Well, then, girl - " She interupts, "My name is Malon, you know it." Ganondorf and the Poe Collector trade glances once more, Ganondorf actually smiling slightly, impressed. "Well then, Malon. When Ingo recovers, tell him he is no longer needed." Malon looks at Ganondorf again, now she smiles. "He won't be recovering. He is dead." Ganondorf is stunned. There is silence for a while, the last three words echoing through the room. The Poe Collector shakes, amulets and bone fragments adorning him rattling, and he lets out a long, maniacal laugh. Malon laughs as well. As they are done laughing, the door swings open on its own, and Ganondorf and the Poe Collector walk out, the door hanging open behind them. "We look forward to working with you more, Malon" Ganondorf calls back from outside. on an uncommonly cold dark night on Death Mountain Trail, two goron sit staring intently down the path to Kakariko. They are still and focused, waiting. As a wolfos howls from beyond Kakariko, they see it: the glow of a lantern moving up the trail. One of the goron tenses while the other shivers and shuffles backwards, but is grabbed by the other who says in an angry whisper, "we have to make sure!". The shorter and younger, fearful goron almost covers his eyes but is slapped by the other - "look! it is true!" round the corner of the trail, tattered cloth illuminated by the sunset glow of the lantern, and two beady bright eyes beneath a hood float up the trail as if looking for something. As the older is entranced with a look of consternation, the younger runs back to Death Mountain Crater clumsily. The Poe is unphased, but as soon as the older goron turns to walk away he sees a glint of moonlight flicker. A whisp of air and a flash of something passes right past his face, and from the corner of his eye he sees the poe pincushioned by an arrow. As the poe drops its lantern and fading into a tiny purple flame, the goron looks back at the source to see the sillhouette of a tall man limp towards him. There is a bright flash, stopping the goron who was preparing to fight. His limbs are instantly numbed and his ears ring, unable to move. The figure approaches and wordlessly extends an arm with a letter, shaking faintly. After a few seconds, the goron’s arms loosen enough to instinctively grab the letter, dumbfounded. As his clumsy, rough fingers grasp the frail parchment, in an instant from the tips of the figures fingers to its torso, it evaporates in thick black smoke that unceremoniously evaporates into the night air. Standing partially stunned from the flash, partially from the bizarre occurence, the goron glances back to the trail to catch the purple whisp of the Poe also glint out of existence. Stumbling, he makes his way back to the Crater, walking with the letter still held in his partially outstretched arm, shaking his head in bewilderment at what occured. The next morning, as the dawn light begins to illuminate the upper floors of Death Mountain Crater, five goron gather on the suspended plaza. They have passed around the note received the night before, the last of them just reading it now: Goron brothers, time is short. This is not a threat, but a warning. I am sure you heard of the pillaging of Kakariko by some malicious creature. The Poes that inch their way up the trail are just the beginning. Things are changing quickly, and we do not have much time to act. You’ve no doubt been trying to make sense of Darunia’s disappearance, the Kokiri boy, and the Volvagia incident. I myself do not fully understand. As more monsters close in, as Kakariko turns ever darker, you will see I do not lie. Hear me, brothers. You may think I have gone mad, but I speak the truth. Kakariko Village was founded generations ago not as a friendly neighbor to the Goron. It was founded to surveil and control you, and as a cover the Royal Family's secrets. Occultists used catacombs and ritual chambers beneath Kakariko. They meddled with a magic which sought to control the process of life, death and rebirth. Darunia was not what he seemed. That Kokiri boy and Volvagia were part of the Occultists' plans as well. You were used, like everyone else. I have no ill intent to the Goron people. I want this land to prosper. However, I have been sabotaged at every turn. The Occultists are weakened, but they will likely unleash even more gruesome monstrosities if we do not act. Send someone to Lon Lon. Speak with Malon. For the survival of the Goron race itself, and for this land, we must act. – Ganondorf It is night at the camp outside of Kakariko village. As Impa and Nabooru sit around a fire, Nabooru notices a sound - footsteps coming from the village gate. Standing alert, she turns around with a hand on the hilt of the sword on her waist. Around the corner, a woman appears and holds up her hands at the sight of Nabooru, moving slowly closer. "I am looking for Impa. I am a friend of hers." The woman does not see Impa yet but Impa stands and walks over. The woman is Anju (the cuckoo lady). "Impa, I can only stay for a moment but I had to speak to you. I hope it is not the last time." Impa gestures to Nabooru that Anju is safe and Nabooru skeptically relaxes, folding her arms. "Well, join us then - " Nabooru begins, but Anju says "No, I can not risk being seen. I’ve already done too much by bringing Impa’s things." Impa beckons her behind the tent she now lives in. Nabooru follows. "Impa, I am so sorry for all of this." Anju says distraught, but Impa stops her – "It’s not your fault. What do you need to tell me? I don't want you in any trouble." Anju shakes her head, collecting herself. "Kakariko is being evacuated tomorrow. They say it is too much to rebuild, and Lon Lon has offered to take us all in. They plan to turn Lon Lon into the new capital city." Impa is shocked, Nabooru confused, not knowing much of the land beyond her desert home. Anju continues – “We will leave behind three cows and a dozen cuckoos, we can’t transport them, they want to move quickly. Even after we are gone, do not go into the Village, no matter what.” “Is there a danger in the village making you flee?” Nabooru asks. Anju addresses her for the first time, “It is going to be sealed off. There is no danger. I don’t fully understand. It is as if they want to…” “Erase it from history.” Impa completes the sentence. "I don’t trust it. Ingo works with Ganondorf, and if - " Impa says, Anju quickly replies: "Ingo is dead. Malon now controls Lon Lon, and Talon returned there yesterday. I'm not sure if Malon is working with Ganondorf, but... it doesn't matter, the decision has been made." Impa is stunned. She pauses, trying to process it, but instinctively asks "Did Ganondorf kill him?" To which Anju is silent for a bit "Nobody knows what happened." "I see." Impa says with a sense of finality, to stop her mind from racing too much. "Is there anything else? It is good to see you, my friend." "Oh. The people, and Talon and Malon, they have no issue with the Gerudo or Nabooru. They won’t invite them to live at Lon Lon, but they have said they would be open to barter and work trade. I heard no pushback from the Kakariko elders.” Anju turns to Nabooru, who noticeably raises her eyebrows. “They know you are hard working and talented people. But I would recommend waiting a while and keeping interactions short. Someone might even come to you here soon… Talon, maybe Malon herself. Things will calm down in time. But… I guess that's all.” “That’s not so bad I suppose.” Impa says. “I assume I am not welcome.” Anju shakes her head and looks away. “They probably won’t be like this after some time. I hope that you can stay safe." Anju says, a forced hopefulness in her voice. "You don't have to worry about me. Do what is right for your family and neighbors." Impa says, placing a hand on Anju's shoulder, this triggered something - Anju chokes back tears and embraces Impa. Arms around Impa’s shoulders, Nabooru catches a glimpse of a tattoo - an eye - on Anju’s shoulder as her short sleeves fold a bit . "You have always been such a good friend to me, Impa. I wish the others could see that." "It's okay, Anju." Impa says gently. "I do believe Malon and Talon are good people. You will all be safe, I promise you." Anju lets out a single sob and pulls away. "I have to go. Please take care, Impa." "I will. You’ve seen me through worse." Impa says firmly. Anju glances at Nabooru blankly without eye contact, then back at Impa and laughs lightly, clearly through tears, "I suppose I have." She turns away with a solemn "Goodbye." and walks briskly back up the trail. Impa and Nabooru wordlessly return to the campfire. "I don't understand." Impa says, resigned. Nabooru looks perplexed, not at the information Anju shared, but at Impa. "He wants power. There is not much more to understand." Nabooru says. Impa's gaze wanders off toward the horizon, where the Ganondorf's tower can be seen. "But why move them from Kakariko?" she wonders aloud, but Nabooru interupts, rather coldly stating: "Because he can, Impa. All he cares about is controlling people. It doesn't matter if it makes sense." Impa finally looks to Nabooru. "Everything feels so wrong." Never could she have imagined this situation. Sitting around a camp fire surrounded by Gerudo, the Castle replaced by a black pillar of evil, her home town being abandoned, the Zora turning against the royal family. So many things that seem impossible, all happening at once. Nabooru seems frustrated. "Impa, the royal family was never going to last forever. That just isn't how things work. The same way that Koume and Kotake took over and changed the Gerudo, the same way the ranch that woman spoke of changed hands, everything changes eventually. That is the natural way. It’s painful, and there are times of chaos where evil reigns. But even Evil does not last forever. Everything has its limit." Impa is taken aback by this lecture from Nabooru. She isn't offended, but surprised, as Nabooru has not spoken philosophically before, seeming to only have things to say about pragmatic and immediate concerns. She sits quietly. Nabooru continues: "Things aren't ever going back to how they were, Impa. If you don't accept it, we have no business together - " Impa feels a slight pang of terror at this - Nabooru is the last remaining sage, and, over the course of the events of the past days, the only person that she really has left to confide in, to work with and - Nabooru senses Impa's worry, but continues - "You may have saved me, and for that I owe you, and I am thankful - but I’m not a pawn in some prophecy. I am proud of my life, I am proud of the respect I have earned, the skills and strength I have worked for, and I will live the way I want to. I won't shelter you with fairytales, Impa. Even without you, I'd kill Ganondorf myself. Not to save Hyrule. Not to save the Gerudo. I would do it to save my own honor." Impa stares at Nabooru, speechless. "What's wrong, sheikah?" Nabooru asks, gently mocking and abruptly turning light-hearted. "I am just saying. You need to follow your own inner purpose." Inner purpose? Impa thinks, part of Gerudo teachings? Nabooru catches Impa off guard with a smile "Inner purpose. I have learned through life, it is the only thing that can lead a person to victory." "I suppose I see where you are coming from..." Impa lets out half-heartedly while letting her gaze wander away and pass over the camps tents. "You don't sound too convinced." Nabooru prods, but Impa remains quiet. A kettle that they both forgot was even there starts to whistle on the fire. Nabooru stands and takes it off "You should sleep on it." she says, pouring hot water into two cups sat atop a log fashioned to a table between the two of them and putting a tea bag into each. The fire crackles as steam rises from the finely-carved ceramic cups. Nabooru adjusts the fire, adding a log as the stars above twinkle like the flying embers. "It is, at least, a beautiful night." Impa says, somewhat regaining her stoic demeanor. "It is, isn't it?" Nabooru smiles and looks up at the stars as well. Morning, encampment outside Kakariko. Impa and a few other Gerudo are washing laundry at the river. Impa is trying to distract herself from the caravans leaving Kakariko. A few caravans have already made their way to Lon Lon. Oddly, she had noticed Goron seemingly helping the process - peculiar because they rarely leave Death Mountain, but not shocking considering how much has changed so fast. "Impa" Nabooru's now so familiar voice rings from halfway across the camp, she is walking briskly over. "You have to see this." Impa packs up her clothes into a basket and stands, as Nabooru approaches and immediately grabs her firmly by the arm almost dragging her with, but attempting some dignity Impa pulls away and begins walking alongside her. The two stop a couple tents from the edge of the camp and Nabooru hands Impa a spyglass, pointing toward Lon Lon. "Do you see? Ganondorf, Malon and..." Impa looks on, focusing in to the entrance of the ranch. There, indeed, stands Ganondorf and Malon, both watching a covered wagon being loaded by... "Moblin?" Impa utters. Just then, the two hear what sounds like a horse snarl and rocks kicked down the stairs leading into Kakariko and run to the edgemost tent of the camp, looking from behind it to see a Moblin coming down from Kakariko and seeming to speak to a Goron. Impa and Nabooru stare on for a bit more before retreating further into the camp. Impa again points the spyglass to Lon Lon and sees Ganondorf on horseback offer a casual wave to Malon, and begin heading back toward his tower alongside another figure on horseback clad in a purple shawl. "What do you think?" Nabooru asks. Impa confirms that Ganondorf and the other figure are returning to the castle and returns the spyglass. "I... I have no idea..." Impa slowly paces back to get a look at the gate to Kakariko, where the first along with another Moblin and two more Goron have begun carrying one of the covered wagons up the stairs to the village. Impa turns away. "I really don't know. It isn’t right." Nabooru seems to still be waiting for some further response but nothing comes. "We do it tonight." Impa says. Nabooru is taken aback a bit. "Are you healed enough?" "It doesn't matter." Impa replies. "He knows we are here. He is doing this all out in the open. He is mocking us." she says, looking at Nabooru with a rage that she has not yet seen. "I'm doing it tonight." she states again before angrily turning back to get her laundry. Nabooru calls her and follows. "Impa, we have no plan -" "It doesn't matter!" Impa yells. "He can't do this. He is trying to rewrite history. To erase the Sheikah. He can't do this! He killed - " Impa freezes up. "He killed her." Suddenly, something changes. Everything changes. Time seems to slow to a crawl. The sun turns gray. Shadows everywhere grow in size and darken to pitch black. Nabooru inches nearer but feels a burning sensation all over. A purple glow begins to brighten around Impa, who stands fists clenched and hunched forward. "Impa what? ... He killed... who?" the pain on Nabooru's flesh penetrates deeper, her muscles aching and she sees the other Gerudo feel it too. "Impa, stop it!" she yells. Almost as soon as the words leave Nabooru's mouth, everything is back to normal. The Gerudo around stare at Impa. Nabooru grabs and flexes her own arms trying to shake off the phantom pain still lingering. For some reason she also looks back to the gate of Kakariko, where a group of villagers and a goron are also staring down the alley of the camp. "Go on with your business!" Nabooru yells at them and they promptly carry on loading up their wagon hastily. "I'm going for a walk." Impa says flatly. "It seems like you need one!" Nabooru says as Impa begins walking off, still clearly enraged but seemingly unaware of what happened. Impa walks through the camp, Nabooru following quietly just to see where she heads off to. Impa crosses the river at a wooden bridge the camp had set up, heading south toward Kokiri Forest. Nabooru stops and turns back to the Gerudo who are still staring in shock. "It is fine. She means us no harm. I don't think she understands what she did." Nabooru assures them. They stare back, she repeats: "It is fine, okay?" The women seem to accept Nabooru's statement and slowly get back to what they were doing. Nabooru heads to her tent and closes it behind her. Nabooru's tent, dusk. "It's me." Impa's voice is gravely as if she had spent hours screaming. Nabooru's face looks worried as she hears it. Are they really ready? Impa spent almost the whole day walking who knows where. "Nabooru?" her voice somewhat softer. Nabooru gets up and opens the flap of her tent and looks at Impa. "You can come in." she holds the tent door cloth open and steps back. Impa hesitates - Nabooru has never offered her to come in. The Gerudo are very private, Impa has never seen any one of them let another person into their tent. "Well, I -" Impa starts, but Nabooru repeats herself somewhat sternly, "I invited you, so come in." Impa comes in slowly, standing awkwardly as Nabooru closes the tent and sits on an old wooden stool in front of an ornate vanity desk made of meticulously tied driftwood, with four face-sized mirrors and various patterned cloth ribbons. A cone of incense burns in a small bowl on the vanity next to one of the mirrors, filling the tent with a mild sandalwood and vanilla scent. "Sit, Impa." Nabooru gently gestures to her cot, fine white silk sheets and a comforter with inlaid silver and gold weave chain sewn into the fabric neatly folded at the foot of the bed. Impa again hesitates but sits down slowly, as if afraid she will break something. Yet the cot's frame doesn't so much as creak the slightest, just the soft sound of fabric shifting. "I am sorry about raising my voice earlier." Impa says, looking down at the comforter's intricate inlay patterns, half avoiding eye contact, but half transfixed by the quality of Gerudo craftwork. Nabooru is quiet for a while. A breeze from slats in the tent's fabric whirls gently around in the tent, almost chilly. Impa eventually raises her eye to see Nabooru looking at her calmly. "Have you seen the sun black out? The purple glow, as shadows grow?" Nabooru asks. Impa looks into space, trying to think of what Nabooru means by this. she looks back to Nabooru "I... don't know what you mean. Has Ganondorf done something?" Nabooru expected as much. "No, it was... Just lines from poem I read earlier." Impa notices many books stacked under the vanity. "Ah." She says. "What does it mean?" Nabooru evades the question. "You know we are not ready tonight. You've been out all day, you have not even eaten, have you?" Impa now notices the empty feeling. "No." "Are you alright with answering some questions while you eat?" Nabooru asks. Impa nods, "That's fine." Nabooru gets up and looks out of her tent, gesturing to a Gerudo outside, then closing it again and walking to the back of the tent. She grabs two large pillows from atop another intricately decorated chest, setting them down in the middle of the tent, gesturing for Impa to sit on one, elegantly lifting and moving through the somewhat cramped tent a light but sturdy, short table, setting it down between them and sitting down herself, legs crossed. She leans over to the vanity to also grab a kettle and two cups. "It isn't hot anymore but already steeped." As Nabooru pours herself some, Impa sits down across from her. "Any water?" Impa asks. Nabooru sets down the tea she sipped and points to a flask near the tent's doorway. Impa grabs it and unscrews it, instinctively about to drink from it when Nabooru gently says "Cup." Impa almost visibly flinches and grabs her cup, pouring it full of water and sealing the flask, placing it a bit too carefully on the table. The two sit for a while. As Impa pours herself more water, a bell chimes behind her. Nabooru gets up and meets a Gerudo at the door of the tent, setting a tray on an end table nearby and leaning out to whisper something to the Gerudo. She closes the tent again and brings the tray to the table, setting it down. She lights two oil lamps on the vanity, leaving one on it and bringing another to the table. The sun has almost fully set outside, and the red-orange hue of the tent has shifted to a dull blue, the light of the lamps casting a yellow glow. Impa sips water as Nabooru sits back down, lifting fine metal covers from the plates on the tray. Steam wafting, she places them before herself and Impa before sitting down again. As Impa finishes her water, she feels that lump in her throat again. Not again - and the dull ache behind her eyes. Putting one hand to her face as if to silence herself, closing her eyes. She feels Nabooru grasp her other hand. Any other time, it would be shocking - Nabooru has had moments of gentleness and kindness, but the touch is unexpected. Yet Impa barely reacts. As Nabooru's palm closes around hers softly, Impa closes hers just slightly. "We don't have to talk. But please eat." Impa looks down at her plate. Never has she felt more hungry. She lets go of Nabooru's hand and the two eat in silence, aside from the occasional Guay or frog in the distance and the gentle, almost imperceptible flapping of the tent. Nabooru grabs the flask and walks to the door to the tent, as she steps out she hesitates before closing it behind her. She looks at Impa's back turned for a moment before saying "I'll be right back." closing the tent. Impa stretches her legs out and leans back against the cot, watching the flame of the lamp on the table and seeing it flicker. She leans forward and raises the wick then reclines again, resting her head in her hand, feeling the now much cooler breeze coming in. She closes her eyes, feeling the slowly cooling night air pass over her face. Nabooru returns, placing the plates and covers back on the tray and glancing over at Impa breifly. Impa just stares at the vanity. Nabooru takes the tray out and away and Impa is alone again for a few minutes. Of course she isn't ready to do it tonight, she thinks. Is there even a reason to try anymore? Sheikh is gone. Link is gone. The Goron are working with Ganondorf. Malon is as well, who knows, even the Zora might be too. Nabooru returns again, closing the tent and quietly putting away the table, placing the lamp on a chest at the foot of the bed. She moves the pillow she had sat on next to Impa and sits by her side, the two of them facing the vanity. They sit in silence for a long time. Impa's gaze wanders from the vanity to Nabooru sitting next to her. Following the creases of her pants, past the light hair on her arms, up to her jewelry - a fine gold necklace and earrings. Just as Impa looks at them, Nabooru takes off her bracelets, laying them in front of her, then reaches up to take off her earrings. She gets up, placing them and the bracelets on hooks on the vanity. Impa watches her strong but delicate hands reach and unfasten her necklace, placing it on a hook as well. She lights another cone of incense, placing it in the ceramic bowl and watching the flame flicker out to an ember then turning back to sit next to Impa again. Nabooru breathes deeply and slow, watching the smoke with Impa, the breeze having died down. The smell of lavender, her favorite. Years ago, she used to gather it outside Lake Hylia along with sage and chamomile for her lotions and soaps. She never got around to trying to make incense. The two sit side by side in silence for a while. Nabooru finally speaks, just above a whisper, the two of them still just staring ahead. "I do truly thank you, Impa, for saving me." Impa is quiet but straightens up a bit. Nabooru looks to her, then back. Impa, again feeling strangely embarassed, hesitates, and says "I had to." - What a terrible response, she thinks, almost wincing. Nabooru, though, as she has often been, is maybe a bit too gracious: "I think you would have, even without being told to." She looks back at Impa again, and Impa notices the absence of the usual barely-audible twinkle of Nabooru's earings and necklace. Impa has nothing to say. Would she have? She can barely imagine how things could have gone any other way. "You would have. You are a selfless person." Nabooru says, catching Impa's gaze again for a moment, holding it before turning away again. "I wanted to ask you, tonight, about what all this means. I don't understand what it means that we are sages. But, I don't know if it matters." Impa stares somewhat blankly ahead and slowly leans forward, crossing her legs. "I..." she pauses, trying to think of what to say. Nabooru watches her expectantly, Impa finally offers, a bit resigned: "I feel like maybe, I don't understand what it means either - to be a sage. I certainly don’t feel like one." Again, a long silence. Nabooru prods – “What will you do after killing him?” Impa blanks. “I guess I haven’t thought about it.” At this, Nabooru sighs, but Impa shoots back, a bit bitter: “You at least have something to come back to.” The sentence hits Nabooru hard. Impa, ever polite though, does say “I don’t mean to be rude.” “No, you are right.” Nabooru says. “How many other Sheikah are left?” she asks a bit slowly, somewhat worried at the answer. “There were quite a few in Kakariko, mostly undercover. None of the ones that I know are alive have much experience or knowledge beyond rituals and oaths. They will probably just leave it all behind to live normal lives. I can’t blame them.” Nabooru looks to Impa. “What about you though?” Impa again has no response. “There is more I need to know, if we are going to go through with this together.” Nabooru says. Impa nods. “Earlier, before you left, you said ‘he killed her’.” Impa quietly looks ahead, but Nabooru leans toward her, a bit demandingly, “Hey, look at me.” Impa does, but her gaze avoids Nabooru’s eyes, instead looking at her nose, down to her lips, down to the floor behind her. Nabooru leans back, a bit exhasperated. She leans to grab the flask of water, when Impa says “Zelda.” Nabooru stops for a moment, then slowly pours them both some more water, setting a cup in front of Impa. Surprisingly, instead of continuing to stare, motionless, Impa takes it and drinks. “I’m sorry.” Nabooru says, as she drinks as well. Impa doesn’t say anything, just finishes her water and sets the cup down. After a while, Impa says – “I was her bodygaurd her whole life. We were always pretty formal, we knew eachother well but - ” Nabooru looks down at the floor. Impa continues, “I cared for her a lot. The thing that made me angriest, though…” she trails off. Nabooru raises an eyebrow at this and looks at Impa. “You can say it.” Nabooru says, assuringly. Impa’s eyes turn a bit glassy and her expression stiffens. Nabooru braces herself as the wind picks up, flowing through the tent and she swears a faint purple halo glows around the Sheikah. Still, Nabooru, tense but unphased, says “It’s okay, Impa. How you feel matters.” Impa leans back against the cot as the wind stops immediately, and the tent darkens slightly. “I just feel so used.” Impa wakes up to the orange-yellow glow of the sun filling the tent. She doesn’t remember falling asleep. She turns over, noticing the blanket is not hers. The sight of Nabooru’s vanity and the Gerudo tapestry reminds her where she is, but things are still foggy. On the floor there is a finely woven cushioned mat with a light sheet. It’s empty. Impa is sore and groggy, but she does feel a strange, light feeling too. The brightness of the tent’s roof tells her it must be nearly noon, maybe later. For a while, she just lays on her side, her eyes tracing the gold patterns woven into the pillowy white comforter and bedsheet. Not much time passes before she hears the small bell at the tent chime once, a shadow visible through the canvas wall of the tent. After a few moments, the flap opens, Nabooru walks in with a tray and large jug suspended from a rope sash around one shoulder. Impa stretches beneath the comforter, “You should have woken me up.” Rolling up her sleeping mat and folding the sheet, Nabooru responds: “You needed the sleep.” She looks up at Impa. “How are you feeling?” Impa doesn’t respond right away, she has only started to wake up enough to realize how strange it is to be laying in Nabooru’s bed, Nabooru laying out breakfast on the small table in front of the bed. “I slept well. Thank you for letting me spend the night, it’s really too much...” Nabooru looks to her and smiles a bit, “Well, I figured I ought to keep an eye on you. Wouldn’t want you wandering off again.” Impa smiles back. She rolls onto her back, stretching a bit more before sitting up. Nabooru places the jug on the table – “Coffee.” she says, “We will have to send someone try to barter with Lon Lon for more soon, as this was the last of it. So if you do have some, appreciate it.” Impa does pour herself a cup of coffee and begins to eat. Nabooru heads back out. Nabooru returns once more, just as Impa finishes. Nabooru leans over Impa, a long lock of her hair brushing up against Impa's cheek. She places in front of Impa two tall, wire-wrapped glass bottles and two towels. “You can keep these, I meant to give you them earlier – the bottles are soap.” As Impa approaches the southern edge of the camp, a young Gerudo girl approaches. Noticing her carrying towels and soap, she says excitedly "We've put up the showers! I just finished the last one!" Impa looks to the girl as she points to three large stalls, wooden-framed with fabric walls and a bucket peeking from the roofless tops. Impa is impressed and walks up to one, the girl follows: "You get your own water ready, so it is cool. If you don't use it all, let the rest drain so that bugs don't breed in the buckets." the girl says proudly. Impa raises her eyebrows "Thank you, these are so well built!" The girl smiles, "I designed them myself. We had a few different kinds before, but I think I made them a lot better. Everyone else agrees. I hope you enjoy!" the young Gerudo shrugs with pride and walks back into the camp. How can she be so happy in times like this, Impa wonders - and for a Gerudo, she is so chipper and friendly. Impa opens a stall and sees two buckets neatly set at the base of a short stepladder. She picks up the buckets to go fill them from the river. At the ruined gate to what was once the capitol city of Hyrule. It is evening, not quite sunset, in the distance across the plain, trees cast long shadows, but here, the energy emanating from the black Castle within the ruined city darkens the air outside of the gate and no shadows are cast. Just a dull gray and purple hue, above the sky fades to an opaque gray haze toward the city. Impa and Nabooru stand by to their horses, Impa gently pets her loyal white Hylian while Nabooru unfastens a sling pouch from hers and wraps it over her shoulder. “I doubt we’ll be needing it, but I did bring some food.” The two of them face the gate and then eachother. They don’t say anything for a moment, then, in unison, walk toward and jump over the wrecked drawbridge. Impa notices the oily purple sheen on the water below. The two hug the wall and make their way into the city. As they pass by the old guard house attached to the outer wall, Impa does pull ahead. “I’ll lead.” Nabooru nods, looking around. The quiet is oppressive. Every step they take, no matter how light, crunches loudly as if the ground is made of half-decayed bone that cracks beneath their feet. Every step, word, breath, and even the soft movement of their clothing echoes through the streets. The two of them approach the old Market hub. The buildings she knew so well black and brown, collapsed and shrunken. The whole ruined city feels frozen in time, as if it was just days ago, not years, since the fires and earthquake drove everyone out. Impa sternly looks past the plaza toward the tower. “Look.” Nabooru tries to whisper, but her voice still echoes in the dead silence, reverberating from the walls of the buildings – she points and Impa looks to the right. In front of the buildings’ hollowed facades which stand like gnarled masks, ReDead stand – more than a dozen – shoulder to shoulder, all facing the ground. Impa looks to the left, and there are just as many on the opposite of the plaza. The two of them walk tentatively through the center. None of the ReDead move, no shreiks ring out. The two women have no choice but to walk through the open Market, no shuffling against walls, no dipping through alleys or burned structures. They slowly walk past the fountain in the center, now both trying to avoid looking at the ReDead but keeping alert. Their footsteps crunch and echo as they approach the entrance to the yard of the castle. As they approach, suddenly, the ReDead burst into flames. They slowly mimic pain and struggle, before one by one collapsing and extinguishing. Nabooru looks to Impa, who stares steely then turns to enter the Castle yard. They walk ahead, the ashy cobblestone beneath their feet turning to dark brown earth, the charred smell of burned wood and cloth in the Market is overpowered by the smell of sulfur and soil which is blown by a wind whirling through the yard. As they walk through the yard, they both look up to the black castle, following its intricate buttresses, awnings, lookout towers. It is massive, barely narrowing as it reaches up – it is as if an entire city’s worth of people, maybe two, could live in the colossus. Nabooru and Impa stand in the middle of the yard below for a while. The howling wind whips from every direction. They look at eachother and walk side by side up the slight hill toward the entrance. As they approach, their eyes are drawn to the steep drop at the top of the climb. Below, lava swirls, the castle floating above motionless. They approach the edge of the steep cliff. A massive empty doorway yawns across the chasm, pitch black inside. Seeing no way across, and nothing to grapple with their hookshots, Nabooru turns to Impa. Impa is standing, staring into the gaping doorway. A purple halo slowly grows around her and Nabooru takes a single step back and braces, but doesn’t feel any pain – rather, the wind seems to die down, or rather seems to stop blowing on the two of them. The aura around Impa glows brighter and begins to seep across the ground toward the ledge, the light twitching as if it forms vague tendrils. The earth begins to shake slightly, then a bit more and Nabooru instinctively backs away from the ledge, but Impa stands still staring into the doorway. Suddenly and violently, something seems to erupt just down the edge of the cliff, Nabooru can’t see but hears dirt and rocks falling down the incline toward the lava below. Before Nabooru can react, she sees greenish gray bricks, surrounded faintly by the same purple aura, assembling themselves into a path reaching toward the castle. As each brick snaps into place with a light plume of ash, the aura around it dissipates. Nabooru glances to Impa, who is motionless – her hair and clothes not blown by the wind, as if frozen in time. Nabooru looks back to watch the unfolding bridge assemble, bricks sliding and scraping across the ones laid before like slugs before clicking into position. After just a few moments, the bridge is complete, and the purple light flickers and twitches violently before disappearing altogether. As Nabooru feels the wind again, Impa seems to snap back to reality, turning back to Nabooru. “Are you ready?” She asks. Nabooru nods, again unsure if Impa even is aware of what happened. Nabooru draws her sword and the two walk across the bridge, passing through the yawning doorway, although Nabooru does look over her shoulder. Behind them, the bridge seems to exhale and settle, every brick locking into place more tightly, the remaining cracks breathing a final light cloud of dust as they close. Will they really walk back across that bridge again? Nabooru wonders breifly before looking away. Passing the threshold from outside they descend long, wide stairs adorned with a red carpet and lit by torches on the walls that seem to mock them. Nabooru notices that no wind flows in from outside, and it is silent – not even the burning torches crackle, just the soft sound of their footsteps on the carpet. The flight is not so long – it just feels longer from how wide the steps are. At the end, the long hall widens to another massive archway. Nabooru and Impa walk through into an enormous hall. Their footsteps echo through the silence. In the middle, a pillar of dirt looks to have erupted through the stone floor, reaching upwards into the arched ceiling. A giant steel door buried into the pillar faces them, rusted and stained with dust. As soon as they stop, the moment the last echo of their footsteps quiets, an almost deafening screeching and clanging begins that makes both of them flinch. The dirt on the pillar begins to crumble and fall to the floor as the earth shakes. The clanging gets even louder, almost unbearable now as the dirt falls in larger clumps, underneath it is metal walls around whatever the steel door defends. The flat metal walls are separated by studded, massive iron beams. Some of the flat walls slowly slide up while others slide down. The clanging gets louder, with each loud crack more dirt falls to the floor, until eventually the pillar of metal is fully revealed, its walls sliding, and the door begins to open. Nabooru and Impa, now covering their ears as the sound of it has become painful, watch and brace themselves. The door slides up agonizingly slowly, a freezing wind flows from it. The two of them look at eachother, then back to the door. They can barely stand the cacophany yet it goes on. They watch as the door inches slowly up excruciatingly slowly, each centimeter letting the frigid gust grow stronger. Finally, with a bang that shakes the room, the door locks into place, opening into another pitch black void. Despite this, the noise of the now revealed metal pillar’s walls continue sliding – the ear-piercing whirring and random thunking does not let up. The two look to eachother again, holding their ears and both wincing – they have no choice, they walk toward the door. As they approach, the wind grows stronger and colder. Impa and Nabooru’s breath is visible but the clouds of their exhalation are blown around their heads. As they come closer and closer to the precipice of the door’s massive arch, the gust grows so strong they can barely stand – Nabooru grabs the frame of the door, her hands instantly bleed as they grasp the metal, the pain of the drops of blood blown by the wind like liquid bullets onto her arms face is almost more painful than her hands, yet she holds on tightly and looks back to Impa, her eyes streaming with tears, her ears feel like they will bleed from the noise that now penetrates her unprotected ears. Impa, still holding her ears and bearing forward looks to Nabooru who grabs Impa’s arm with her free hand and pulls her. It takes all of Nabooru’s strength to pull Impa closer, and Impa grabs her waist with one arm, she extends her other to grab the frame of the door. Both of them now holding eachother around the shoulder with one arm and fighting through the burning on their hands, looking down to avoid the arrows of blood darting toward their faces, pull as hard as they can, slowly gaining inches until they can both wrap their forearms around the other side of the door frame. Now, their arms bleed, letting go of eachother to wrap both of their arms around the frame of the door and pull themselves through, as if hoisting themselves up a vertical ledge. Their bodies swing toward and slam against the frame of the door, scraped by invisible razors and pins, they both feel their feet leave the floor but pull harder – now, flecks of ice have begun to shoot through the void ahead (or what feels now like above). Nabooru screams, barely audible over the now deafening wind and screeching of the metal, she realizes she can’t inhale because of the strength of the wind, just as she is able to swing a leg around the frame, her thigh burns. She looks to Impa, some part of her wants to grab her arm and help but she can’t. Impa pulls her knees up against the frame, struggling, but eventually straightens her arms pulling her torso up. In an instant, the two of them are flung into the darkness as the wind stops completely. Curling and bracing they both hit a stone floor and slide a ways as the door behind them instantly falls shut. Silence. Both of them lay in pain, eyes closed for just a moment before looking around. A long plenary room surrounds them—walls of massive gray stone pierced by tall windows. A dark wooden table runs the room’s length, ending at a matching iron door.They glance at each other—no blood. A glance downward: no wounds. Nothing left of what just happened. The iron door behind them looms in silence, layered with dust—as if it had never moved. They rise slowly. Nabooru studies her hands. Impa scans the chamber.No one else. Just the long table and neatly arranged chairs. Impa crosses to a window. Orange sunlight spills in, strangely warm. She looks out and sees they must be dozens of stories up, maybe near the top of the tower. The sky is awash in orange and pink, deep purple clouds on the horizon. All of Hyrule can be seen from here. Nabooru joins her. For a long moment, they watch. It may be the most beautiful sunset they’ve ever seen. As they look out, their breath slowing. They stand wordlessly, feeling strangely weightless after what they just experienced. After a while Nabooru looks to Impa. A tear rolls down Impa’s cheek, as she looks down at their hands. “This won’t be the last sunset you ever see, Impa.” Impa looks to her, tears now flowing more, for a moment she pauses but turns away. “I don’t deserve it.” Impa almost chokes the sentence out – the fact that she recedes closer to the window and stares at the sky betrays she wasn’t talking about the sunset. Nabooru looks at Impa for a while, then comes closer. “Will you look at me.” she says, partly a command, partly a question. Impa struggles to not break down but turns to Nabooru, who leans even closer. Nabooru grabs Impa’s hands and their eyes meet, they stand silently for a while. “May I?” Nabooru asks softly. Impa blinks, but nods. Suddenly, at the other end of the long hall, the iron door flies up and open, banging loudly and echoing through the chamber. The echo dies slowly and the two turn, Nabooru drawing her sword and Impa swiftly takes out a bow, arrow drawn and point to the door. There is silence, then they hear slow footsteps on the stone floor coming from beyond the door. The two of them tense and slowly step, silently, closer to the door. As Impa and Nabooru make it halfway down the chamber, nowhere to hide, they see him emerge from the shadows: Ganondorf. They freeze, but Ganondorf continues walking into the room, down a short flight of stairs at the end and faces them from maybe two yards down the table. “Good evening, ladies.” Ganondorf says, strangely with no mirth in his voice. “I hope your travels weren’t too difficult.” Impa and Nabooru stare him down, keeping an eye on eachother out of their peripheral vision. They walk slowly towards him. Nabooru sneers. “I do have food on the way. Although I assume you aren’t hungry.” Ganondorf says calmly. In one motion, Nabooru quickly glances to Impa, catches her gaze and gestures with her head – she runs to him and Impa draws her arrow back, also moving forward. Impa lets the arrow go. As Nabooru hangs right then lunges with her sword ahead, she sees the arrow pass through Ganondorf’s chest – but just as her blade should connect, she feels no resistance and stumbles. Her blade goes right through him as though through air. The three of them are still. Ganondorf’s arm extends to the nearest chair, pulling it back. “An illusion?” Nabooru begins to yell, looking around, and then, “You coward!” she yells at the doorway, ”Show yourself!”, looking above fruitlessly. Ganondorf sits in the chair and leans forward. “You two should have a seat. There is no illusion, it is me.” To emphasize his point, he knocks twice on the table in front of him. Nabooru and Impa stare at Ganondorf, then notice a figure arrive at the open door, clad in a tattered purple shawl and layers of cloth, a red orb glowing beneath the hood. It descends the short stairs and somewhat clumsily veers to the opposite side of the table, pendants with sigils and fine chains suspending vials and ornaments that clatter as it walks to a chair and sits perpendicular to Ganondorf. As the figure sits, some kind of purple flames or smoke rises, seeming to seep from the cloth. Impa actually draws a chair near her and sits. Nabooru is enraged, she swipes at Ganondorf’s head but her blade simply passes through. Again, she swipes, this time vertically chopping but her sword simply passes through Ganondorf and hits the chair he sits in. A strange, buzzing, crackling voice comes from the Poe-like being: “Mind the furniture.” It cackles, pendants and jewels shaking. It points to Nabooru and she is thrown backwards, not enough to fall this make her even more angry – Impa stands as Nabooru reaches for her sword, still stuck on the wood of the chair. The Poe’s outstretched hand turns from pointing to opening its palm in a halting gesture and Nabooru is pushed backward further. “So it is you that did this all!?” She yells. Impa looks to the Poe, then to Nabooru. “Nabooru-” Ganondorf interupts “He is just an advisor. Don’t be rude.” Nabooru, infuriated but at a loss yells “Give me my sword!” The Poe seems to giggle, gesturing to Nabooru’s sword - it raises and slowly drifts to her, hilt pointed at her. She grabs it angrily but just stands and stares. “It won’t be of use though.” this time the Poe’s voice a high pitched creaking sound. Impa again says to Nabooru, rather calmly, “Nabooru, let it be.” Nabooru looks at her, shocked, then at the Poe. “What are you doing? Are you controlling her!? What is going on!” she yells. The Poe cackles again – “I can not control people too well, I’m afraid. Certainly not a fellow Sheikah.” At this, both Impa and Nabooru are speechless. The hall is silent except for the flickering of the flames around the Poe creature and the torches on the walls. The sun has started going down and the room has dimmed. “I doubt you want to spend all night here, so sit and lets talk.” Ganondorf says. Nabooru, almost gagging, wanders back down to the end of the room where her and Impa entered, sheathing her sword and looking at the ground. She paces for a while while Impa sits back down. “Nabooru, please.” Impa says softly. Nabooru finally stops pacing and looks at her, then back at Ganondorf and the Poe, who both ignore her – almost as if trying to be polite. Nabooru finally sits at the farthest end of the table - not wanting to, but feeling nauseous at how confusing this is. She looks at the others again, then just puts her head down in her arms. “What do you want?” She asks, head still down. Ganondorf and the Poe look at eachother. Impa looks at Nabooru, concerned, then back to the two men – if the other is even a man. “You didn’t hurt her did you?” Impa asks. Ganondorf and the hooded figure simply shake their heads. Nabooru kicks the leg of the table. “Well, what do you have to say?” Impa asks Ganondorf. Ganondorf begins, but stops. He stands up and walks to the window. “It is getting late, maybe we should talk another time. I am sure you are tired-” Nabooru picks her head up “Fuck off!” she yells. “Green-faced son-of-a-leever’s-asshole motherfucker!” The Poe laughs at this. “Nabooru-” Impa starts, but Nabooru stands, “Why should I sit and listen!?” she redirects her anger to Ganondorf “I should have slit your throat when I had the chance - you’d have been better off dead! Now look at you. Playing house with corpses, staring out of your tower and blaring your faggy organ music. Who serves you, ReDeads in maids’ dresses? Who respects you? Shrivelled rats wearing bedsheets? Fuck you!” Nabooru spits on the floor and flings her sword, not trying to hit Ganondorf, but out of anger that she can’t use it. She turns and paces back to where she sat but just stands facing away, fists clenched. “Cuckoo-shit bastard.” she mutters. the Poe laughs again. Ganondorf sighs. “I have no issue with you two, and I certainly didn’t work all these years just to be the King of a pile of rubble. Soon, I won’t be able to leave this prison. But I did what had to be done.” Ganondorf continues. “I’m sure you have gathered that the prophecy is broken.” Ganondorf looks at Impa breifly. He turns and walks back to sit at the head of the table. “The curse of the royal family has been undone. Aside from the two of you and Ruto, the sages have been sealed in the Sacred Realm.” Impa looks blankly down at the table. “I did think as much.” “They were sealed with the Master Sword, along with the Triforce.” Ganondorf says. Impa looks shocked at this. “The Temple of Time and sword are destroyed. The Sacred Realm is sealed. Forever.” Impa stares at the table in front of her. Ganondorf goes on. “It seems there have been some unintended consequences, however.” The Poe rattles. “You can’t be killed. Doesn’t seem so bad for you.” Impa says. “Nor can either of you.” Ganondorf says flatly. At this, Nabooru and Impa both stare at Ganondorf, who is leaning forward with his hand on a raised fist. After a bit of time, the Poe rattles again as if coughing and adjusts in its seat with another puff of purple smoke emanating from it. The door Impa and Nabooru entered from gently slides open. Ganondorf looks at the Poe then back at the two women. “Malon will come to meet your camp within a few days. Go home.” Nabooru storms out. Impa gets up and follows her – before she can look back the iron door has closed without a sound. She finds herself outside the castle drawbridge. It is night. Early still, as the sky isn’t completely dark. The moon can’t be seen, and Impa feels very sporse drops of rain. Impa and Nabooru’s horses have been waiting patiently. Nabooru is kneeling on the grass, head down. Impa takes a step forward but hesitates. Nabooru gets up quietly and grabs her horse’s reign, beginning to walk. Impa quietly follows, her white horse just behind. They walk wordlessly. The rain has started to fall a bit more by the time they reach the bridge. Nabooru comforts her horse who seems afraid of the bridge. She pets his head for a while then walks to the other side and whistles, facing him. She doesn’t look at Impa, and Impa doesn’t really try to look at her either. Nabooru’s horse hesitates for a while, then quickly runs the few steps across the bridge and stops. Nabooru hugs his head. As the two turn, Impa walks across, her horse following behind. The earth on the way to the camp is muddy, the night sky now dark. They head through camp to the makeshift stable to get out of the rain. The camp is quiet, a few tents have lamps dimly glowing. Impa and Nabooru silently tend to their horses, Nabooru feeding hers, Impa stroking her horse’s mane. They both hear some movement, a flap a couple tents down opens a crack, then fully – warm light illuminates the raindrops and wet grass as the young Gerudo girl Impa met before showering walks over briskly, barefoot through the rain. As she reaches the stable she looks at Impa, seemingly not seeing Nabooru. The girl is holding a large glass jar and holds it out toward Impa – “Look! Before it rained, I found these! We’ll hardly need lamp oil again if I can find out how to keep them alive!” Impa notices what she first thought were just raindrops illuminated by the lamp in the girl’s tent are fireflies in the jar. “You can hold it and look.” The girl says, offering the jar to Impa. Impa smiles and holds it up, looking at the fireflies. “Blow a bit through the top or shake it, some of them aren’t always shining, I don’t know why.” Impa looks at the girl, then back at the jar. The girl replaced the metal lid with a coarse mesh. Impa blows through the mesh and several more fireflies light up and begin hovering in the jar. The light is impressive, it does actually cast a warm yellow glow on Impa and the girl. “You might be onto something.” Impa says, smiling at the girl, who beams back. “I’ll have to do more research. I should be asleep but I wanted you to see!” Impa laughs lightly and hands the jar back. The girl takes it and turns, “Goodnight!” she says cheerfully as she walks quickly through the rain back to her tent, closing it behind her. “Goodnight,” Impa says, a bit late and too quiet. Impa realizes she is alone in the stable. She takes a deep breath and exhales, looking up to the sky. The clouds only cover half, they seem to be slowly drifting to the Southwest, over Lake Hylia. I wonder how long before they name it something else, Impa wonders. She begins walking slowly back towards the North of the camp, where her and Nabooru’s tents are. A lamp glows in Nabooru’s tent. As Impa approaches, through the rain and the vents in the canvas Impa can smell myrrh. She hesitates, but rings the bell by the tent flap once. No response. Impa waits for a few seconds, before leaning toward the canvas wall and quietly says “You don’t have to let me in, I just want to know you’re there.” After a pause almost long enough that Impa would start to worry, Nabooru’s muffled voice returns: “I am. Goodnight.” Despite everything that happened today, this hurt the most. Faintly, Impa had hoped Nabooru would at least come to the door. Really, she had hoped to be invited in. In honesty, she wanted to fall asleep in Nabooru’s tent again. Knowing she is lingering a bit too long, and pushing it a bit too far, Impa asks “Will you be alright tonight?” No response. Just the sound of raindrops on the tents. “Nabooru-” Impa says, almost wincing at herself for not leaving it be. Nabooru, a bit louder says “I said goodnight.” Impa turns and makes it a few steps before stopping. She just can’t. She stands there helplessly. She wants so badly to turn back. To ask one more time. The answer will be the same, though. She begins to tear up. It isn’t just that she wants to be sure Nabooru is okay. Impa wanted a reminder that Nabooru cares if she is okay. She twitches, trying to suppress a sob. Her stomach growls. Impa crosses the muddy dugout around the fire pit and opens her tent, sitting down on her cot across from the opening without closing the tent or even taking her boots off. She grabs the matchbox and lamp from the chest by her bed, lighting it, her hands shaking a little. She sets the lamp on the chest and takes off her boots, tossing them toward the entrance, angry with herself for having tracked in mud. At least it isn’t cold or windy, she thinks. In fact, it is an uncommonly warm night. Impa stands in the corner across from her bed and undresses, grabbing a towel and drying herself off before kneeling to pul her box of clothes from under the cot. She puts on underwear and pulls a loose white nightdress over herself and stands up, walking past the open doorway to get the large flask she keeps in her tent but freeze in front of the open tent door. On the chest to the right of the entrance is a tray with a plate with a metal cover. Next to the plate, a fork, napkin and a ceramic vessel. Impa kneels and sets aside the cover of the plate, her stomach growling again. A large bowl of rice, still barely steaming, jerky, a cup of dried berries, two rather large baklava. Her vision is blotted by tears welling up. She notices Nabooru’s lamp go out across the dugout. The rain has almost stopped now. Impa picks up the tray, setting it in front of her as she sits cross-legged on the bed. She picks up the ceramic vessel, opening it through tears. As she opens it, a scent drifts out and she sees several cones of incense. Lavender.